


I Get Off With a Little Help from my Friends

by owlaholic68



Series: Fallout NSFW [9]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 2
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Companions, Consensual Kink, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Lap Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Star Courier, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:29:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: It’s not Leonard’s fault that there are so many attractive guys in the wasteland.Or, Leonard gets down with all of the (male) companions. Or he doesn’t. It’s all really up to him.





	1. Lenny

Ugh, there’s something about this ghoul fella that’s driving Leonard crazy. He is just. So. Cute. Leonard doesn’t normally notice ghouls, because they normally don’t go for him, but there are a few working at the Studio, so he knows how all of _that_ works. But the ghouls he knows have been trained as bodyguards, or look like it. Sinewy muscles, rough skin and strong arms.

This guy is _not_ that at all. His name was Lenny. A doctor for this small all-ghoul community. So tiny. Leonard is not a big guy, but Lenny is half a head shorter than him, and much skinnier. Who’s feeding this ghoul?

“Yeah, get the hydro-electric,” Leonard pauses, only having been half-paying attention to the conversation with Harold, “or was it hydro-magnetic?” He snaps his fingers. “Hydro-electric magnetosphere, uh, regulator. Get that from Vault City, then pop it into the reactor. Consider it done, my man.” He gives Harold a jaunty sarcastic salute, then throws an arm over Lenny’s shoulders. “Now, can you point me to a room for the night?” It wasn’t that far of a return trip, but the sun is already slipping down the sky and he’d rather not spend the night in Vault City’s slum.

“Um, don’t really h-have a hotel,” Lenny stammers. “But you can s-stay in my room. If you w-want.”

Leonard grins. “Yeah. Now do you wanna go over to the Harp and have a drink or two?”

A slow shy grin works its way across Lenny’s face, making him look a little less like a zombie. “I’d l-like that.”

An hour and a few drinks later, in the middle of Lenny telling a story about his life in Necropolis, Leonard acts upon his impulse and tugs Lenny in for a kiss. He’s not drunk, but the alcohol and the warm heat from the reactor next door (probably not great to be so close, but whatever, he’s got plenty of Radaway) are making him bold and relaxed.

“My place,” Lenny whispers, pulling back with a greenish blush tinting his cheeks. Oh, the cuteness. This is not a guy to fuck and leave, this is someone who requires care and attention and everything wonderful that Leonard has to offer.

“Your place,” Leonard agrees.

Lenny’s “place” is just a room in the back of the administration building, but it’s got privacy and a bed, and that’s good enough for Leonard.

“How far do you wanna go?” He whispers between kisses. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yeah,” Lenny gasps as Leonard’s hand finds the front of his pants, “please. But no – I’m not sure a-about – uh-”

“Penetration?” Leonard guesses, and he’s right. “Alrighty then. We can work with that.”

He can work with anything. And so many of his encounters immediately turn to dick-in-ass that it’s kind of nice to have a solid break from that routine. Leaning over Lenny on the bed, he gets to work untying the ghoul’s drawstring pants and pulling them down just enough to get to the real good stuff.

Lenny laughs, a half-giggle half-breath of surprise as Leonard lifts him up and puts his hips on the edge of the bed. Lifting him is like carrying a half-full sack of grain. Leonard kneels on the floor and busies both of his hands unzipping his vault suit, leaving his mouth to do all of the heavy lifting.

His mouth is _very_ good at these sorts of things. In a minute or less, he has Lenny falling apart above him. He peeks up and groans at the sight, his own hand around himself taking care of _that_ business.

A sharp intake of breath and Lenny’s thighs stiffening is the only warning he needs to pull back and use his hand to finish him. He’s got Radaway, sure, but he doesn’t really want to waste his precious supplies all because he let some ghoul fill up his mouth with radioactive liquid. Leonard may be adventurous, but he’s not _stupid._

He also doesn’t neglect himself. This is a fun night, hot and gentle and soft in all the right ways, and it’s wonderful enough for him to get there easily. After he gets his breathing back under control, he snags a bottle of purified water from his pack and downs that to soothe the ache in his throat.

Lenny hums and pulls Leonard onto the bed next to him. Then the ghoul promptly falls asleep like that. Leonard smiles and settles down onto the bed, wrapping one arm around Lenny’s slim waist. He mentally promises himself that he will _not_ up and run the moment he can. Lenny deserves a proper breakfast tomorrow and a nice goodbye, with a solid promise to come back later.

Oh, Leonard is _absolutely_ stopping by Gecko again in the future.


	2. Davin

This man is _handsome._ A rare find in this dilapidated farming town, like finding a Super Stimpack in a gas station full of trash. If muscles were wealth, he’d be a millionaire. Leonard has always been fond of big guys with muscles.

“Hey,” Leonard starts, deciding to keep friendly if this _wasn’t_ going to go how he hoped. “What’s up, stud? My name’s Leonard, how ‘bout you?”

“Stud?” The man laughs and it’s so very charming, rough but friendly. “I’m Davin. I help my father with the slaughterhouse.” He smirks. “You know, I’m free for the night.”

There’s something in his stance that warns Leonard away. Or maybe it’s not Davin himself, but Davin’s father Grisham. A man with a strict eye on his children and an even tighter grip on his shotgun. And in this small community, maybe casual things are not so favorably looked upon.

“You know what?” Leonard pats Davin’s arm. “Another time, maybe.”


	3. Cassidy

“Surprisingly kinky for such an old man,” Leonard babbles, twisting his wrists in the rough rope that secures him to the headboard. “You gonna pull out the whips and chains soon-”

“Jesus Christ, do you ever shut the hell up?” John Cassidy glares at him from where he’s rummaging in Leonard’s bag. He plops a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms on the bedside table.

“Nope.” Leonard pops the word. “People usually gag me when they get sick of it. Sometimes with a ball gag, but usually just with their-” He whines and jerks his hips up. “Jeez, you’ve got some rough hands there. Anyways, with the talking, it’s not like you don’t know me, so you totally knew what you were getting into when you propositioned me – alright, shutting up now.”

Cassidy rolls a condom onto Leonard’s very erect, very ready to go, dick. Then he slathers some more lube on and lowers himself down.

This is Leonard’s first time in a long time being on the other end of this exchange, and it feels fucking _weird._ Dick-in-ass relations usually go with it being _Leonard’s_ ass, and not the other way around. But this is hot and warm and he can definitely see the appeal. It’s alright.

Okay, fine. He feels like he’s going to bust a nut up in this joint when Cassidy starts bouncing on his lap, the grizzled fighter’s tough fingernails digging into his hips. And there’s something indescribably arousing about such a big strong guy riding him like this, tying Leonard up with him totally at his mercy (save for a safeword, of course, they’re not _stupid)._

And Cassidy is hands-down one of the most masculine guys he’s ever slept with. The dude is an expert with his shotgun and also really good with his _shotgun._ With a deep grunt, Cassidy comes into his own hand, then braces himself with a now very dirty hand on Leonard’s chest to raise himself up and off of him.

The loss of friction. Oh, Leonard is _dying._ “Cassidy, I’m _dying,”_ he whines, bucking his hips up and wincing at the strain in his legs. His ankles are tied to his thighs, bending his legs back in a position that is making his poor, dying dick throb. “Cassidy, please…”

“Fucking okay, give me a sec,” Cassidy wipes his hands on the quilt (ew) and pulls off Leonard’s condom. “You’re such a needy overdramatic bitch.”

“That’s me. Needy overdramatic bitch numero uno. You’ll never find anyone like me-” Leonard jerks his arms in their restraints and whimpers. Cassidy may have rough hands, but he has a damn good tongue. A filthy mouth, but a masterful one. And it does so much for Leonard to see a guy twice his size with his dick in his mouth, and him helpless to do anything about it. He fusses and mewls and can’t form words, but can definitely sound like the biggest twink bottom that’s ever existed. Hey, that’s his brand, and he’s sticking to it.

“Cassidy, Cassidy,” he begs, because he’s real close.

Cassidy pulls off and slaps his thigh, eliciting a squeak from Leonard. “You wanna come? You gonna shut up for once and be a good boy?”

Oh no, this kink. This wouldn’t work with any other guy, but damn does it work with the stern way that Cassidy’s glaring at him.

“If you don’t be good,” Cassidy slides his thumb right under a very sensitive spot and Leonard jerks, his breathing starting to get ragged, because he was _there_ and then he _wasn’t_ and now he’s right there again. “Maybe I’ll just leave you like this, until you beg and beg and then _finally_ I let you fucking come.”

Leonard bites his lip. “Please. I’ll be quiet. Promise.”

Cassidy must see the way he’s at the end of his rope, the way he’s just barely clinging into sanity with his dick right there and totally neglected for an entire second. “Good boy.”

True to his word, Leonard doesn’t make a noise. He throws his head back and bites so hard on his lip he draws blood, but he doesn’t make a noise. He’s good.

“Christ, kid,” Cassidy growls, taking a knife from the bedside table and cutting Leonard free, massaging his aching legs and arms. “You’re good at this.”

Leonard nods and breathlessly grins. Yeah, he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone: his anaconda, ass blaster, disco stick, love shaft, baby maker, beastus maximus, blue-veined junket pumper, deep-veined purple-helmeted spartan of love, foaming beef probe...
> 
> Leonard, crying: please just say penis.


	4. Sulik

One week into his journey, Leonard still finds the wasteland as inhospitable as ever. People are so _rude_ and everything is so _expensive._

Case in point: Klamath. This place is run-down and the people here look down on tribals, even though they themselves basically live in a giant pile of dirt and shit. Arroyo is much nicer and _cleaner_ than this. Leonard is glad to leave. He didn’t leave alone, though. Sulik accompanied him. A nice guy stuck in a bad situation. The least Leonard could do was get him out of there, and now he has a companion that can hopefully stop him from turning into a pile of goo out in the wasteland.

Sulik’s a good companion. He’s considerate and helps teach Leonard how to not get his ass kicked every time he gets into a fight. He’s handy with a sledgehammer and strong enough to take on a Gecko bare-handed, and if Leonard wasn’t worried about taking advantage of him, he’d make a move.

As it is, he doesn’t. This leaves him alone in an out-of-the-way outhouse behind The Hole bar, the noises and lights of the rest of the Den distant and muffled. He has the door closed, his back against one of the rough wooden walls.

Instead of facing his feelings and seeing if The Hole could find him any available men, he’s dealing with the situation by taking _matters_ into his own hands. It’s early August, and he has his tattered vault suit unzipped and his leather jacket hanging off his shoulders.

He imagines Sulik’s hand in place of his own, and has to muffle a moan at the thought. But that fantasy is somehow not enough, so he sticks his left hand around and grabs at his ass, spreading himself a little before starting to tease himself with one finger. Then one finger turns into two, and now in his imagination, Sulik’s bending him over a rock and roughly fucking him, which is probably grossly inaccurate because Sulik seems like he would be a gentle lover.

But hey, it’s a fantasy.

And a pretty damn good one at that. With a strangled grunt, Leonard gives in to the mental image. In his enthusiasm, he throws back his head and thumps it against the wall.

After he recovers from _that,_ he shakes out a cramp in his leg and wipes his hand and chest on a scrap of paper. He runs his hand through his hair and zips himself back up again. It’s time to go again, time to get back to saving his people. He can’t sit here jerking off (literally) all day.


	5. Vic

Rough hands, calloused from years of hard work, caress Leonard and he whines, his own hands clenched in the cloth of his bedroll.

“Like that, Boss?” Vic leans over him, his face barely visible in the moonlight.

“Yeah,” Leonard chokes out, seeing stars both in the sky and behind his eyes. “That’s real good-” His back arches and he keens, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. This is quick and dirty and he’s so close-

Leonard wakes up and turns into his pillow to muffle his scream. What the _fuck?_ Vic could be his _dad._ Vic has a kid that’s probably older than him. Why the hell is he having dirty dreams about him? Vic isn’t even with him, having returned to Klamath with Sulik a week ago. That leaves only him and Dogmeat, back south on their way to pick up Marcus. Maybe he’s just feeling lonely.

Yeah, that’s it. Just lonely.


	6. Marcus

Leonard tosses his bag on his bed and stretches. “It’s good to be back,” he says, savoring the slightly tangy metallic smell of Broken Hills. He has a semi-permanent room in the back of the bank/sheriff’s office/administration building, across the hall from Marcus’ own room.

“There’s no place like home,” Marcus agrees.

After retrieving a few essentials from his bag, Leonard runs a hand through his hair and heads for the door again. “Well, I’m out for the night. Don’t wait up.”

“Francis again?” Marcus asks, crossing his arms. There’s the usual note of disapproval there, but there’s also a hint of-

“Jealousy? Is that what this is?” Leonard puts his stuff down and sits on the bed. “Are you _jealous,_ Marcus? You know what me and Francie have is a casual thing. I happen to be in town, I go over and we have a nice night, then I move on again.” He grins at the way Marcus shifts, uncomfortable. “Marcus, if you wanted to get down with me, all you have to do is ask.”

“Don’t want to fuck ya,” Marcus grunts, then he mutters something Leonard can’t hear.

Leonard leans forward. “Huh? What was that?”

“Maybe just watch,” Marcus repeats.

Suddenly a little hard at the thought, Leonard shifts on the bed. “Oh. That can be arranged.” They’ll be in town for at least two nights. Francis has waited two weeks for him to return to the closest place he can call home right now, he can wait another night. “How about you take a seat, big guy. I’ll get this show on the road.”

First step: clothing. Preferably less. Leonard shucks his leather jacket and the light faded tanktop underneath, then toes off his boots and socks. Broken Hills gets a little chilly in winter, but this is April, and it’s plenty warm in here. He pauses with his hand on the button of his jeans.

Marcus is still watching. Leonard swallows hard and undoes the button and the zipper. He lifts his hips and wiggles the sturdy denim pants down his thighs and leaves them around his knees.

Leonard has never been, and never will be, an underwear man. It’s too much work. Underthings have to be washed _all_ of the time. And they usually just get in the way. Case in point: right now there are no more steps to dicktown. It’s just there, ready and waiting. The gates are open. There’s a parade going on for new visitors to dicktown, and they’re handing out free condoms and lube. It’s the Mardi Gras of penis-ville.

Anyways, there’s no underwear to take off too. Leonard leans back on the bed and starts stroking himself, slow and gentle. There’s no need to rush here. He breathes out a soft moan and hears an echo of the noise from Marcus, who is deriving an appropriate amount of enjoyment from this situation.

Leonard’s eyes flutter closed and he pretends that it’s Marcus’ hand around him and not his own, and how good his rough skin would feel.

Ugh, bad thought. Or really good thought. That _does_ something to him and makes this all the more enjoyable. Leonard cracks his eyes open and sees Marcus sitting in a sturdy chair with his hand on his crotch.

Good ideas come naturally to Leonard. This is a _really_ good idea. He fully kicks off his pants and stands from the bed, still touching himself. He circles Marcus’ chair and stops in front of it, swaying his hips. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” Marcus says, his voice a low growl. “Yes, very.”

That’s his cue to climb onto the chair, straddling Marcus’ hips with his own legs around the back of the chair for balance. He grinds down and groans at the feel of the rough fabric against his bare skin. With one hand on Marcus’ broad chest, he shifts his hips forward again, more insistently, then does a tricky maneuver on the chair where he turns so his back is against Marcus’ chest.

“What happened to just watching?” He teases, putting his hands on Marcus’ knees and bending forward, rubbing his amazing ass all over.

“Not touching you, am I?” Marcus challenges, keeping his composure until Leonard gives him a very seductive look over his shoulder.

Leonard very dearly hopes that this isn’t taking it too far. “I wouldn’t mind, though. You touching me, that is. Go ahead. If you want.”

And Marcus apparently very much wants. And whatever Leonard imagined that his hands would feel like on his sensitive body, it’s ten times better. He gasps and presses himself back, and hears an answering groan. Fumbling blindly behind him, he manages to locate the buttons of Marcus’ pants, and clumsily undoes them. He hesitates and glances up over his shoulder. Marcus nods.

Grinding back on Marcus now is like rubbing his ass on a hot bar of iron. A very large bar of warped metal. But they’re not here to fuck tonight, and neither of them are going to get that far.

“Marcus,” Leonard whimpers. His fingers dig into the tough flesh of Marcus’ thighs as he orgasms, and he keens as Marcus, with a low growl, finishes too, coating both of their bodies.

They sit there for another few seconds, Marcus breathing heavily and Leonard relishing the floaty euphoria.

“I can’t believe you seduced me,” Marcus quietly says. “Now I see though. I see why you have to be carried home every night you sleep with someone. We should move.”

“Yeah.” Leonard doesn’t move. “You asked for this, though.”

Marcus sighs and picks up Leonard. “That I did. Come on, we have working showers in this building.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up with a comment of your favorite dumb thing that Leonard has said/thought/done in this fic.


	7. Goris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An aftercare chapter, mostly.

Leonard is half-asleep, drifting, numb, and one hundred percent uncaring of the world around him. He just had some pretty dope sex, so who can blame him for forgetting to mention to Gruthar one little detail about his travelling party?

He hears the metallic hiss of the Vault elevator, then the ding of the doors. From his surprisingly comfortable spot nestled in the alpha male Deathclaw’s weird scaly arms, he’s rocked slightly. It’s a little cold in here, but his usual room stays pretty warm. He’s completely naked, but who cares about that? Anyone who would care has already seen him like this several other times.

The distinctive swish of the door to his private quarters. Gruthar lets out a barely audible noise of surprise.

“Father?”

“Ah.” Gruthar clears his throat, something he’s learned from humans. “Goris. My son.” He seems at a loss for words.

So, normally this was Marcus’ responsibility. But Marcus had stayed behind in Broken Hills, leaving only Goris and Dogmeat, who was upstairs, to travel with Leonard. Also, Leonard may have neglected to ever mention to Goris that he had a thing going on with his _dad…_

“He requires cleaning, rest, and fresh clothing,” Gruthar says, apparently deciding to breeze past the awkwardness by putting on his usual air of authority. “I trust you know how to care for him-”

“You injured him,” Goris accuses, a veil of unusually grave authority layered over his voice. “I did not think you to be so irresponsible, father, as to take a human mate and be unaware of his fragility-”

What Leonard meant to say was: “It’s alright, I asked him to be rough with me.” However, because he is out of it and his throat feels like the tires of the Highwayman on a very hot and miserable day, what actually comes out of his mouth is: “Mmm Mmmmmmm, Mmmmmmmmmmmm…” Completely incomprehensible. Good job, Leonard. A solid negative six out of ten on not falling to pieces after sex.

However, it does effectively halt the conversation-slash-argument going on, since both Deathclaws realize that they both have other priorities: Gruthar to get the hell out of this awkward situation, and Goris to make sure that Leonard’s not about to die. Gruthar hands Leonard over, and the door closes again.

Leonard passes out for a second, and finds himself in the shower. Fascinating. Not interesting enough to keep him conscious, though. When he wakes again, he’s in a robe and laying on a bed. Better. He’s kind of chilly, though. Where is Goris?

After taking a solid minute to open his eyes, Leonard sees Goris curled up in his makeshift nest. His ruby eyes are open and he’s staring right back at Leonard. Oops. Guess he can’t pretend to go back to sleep now.

“How are you feeling?” Goris stiffly asks, uncurling slightly.

Leonard clears his throat and winces. There’s a bottle of water next to the bed, which he downs. He squints at his Pip-Boy in the low light. Just past three in the morning. “Better. Um, I wasn’t injured too badly. And I _did_ actually ask Gruthar, uh your _dad, fuck,_ to be rough with me. It’s not his fault.”

Goris still looks a little peevish, though emotions are a little hard to discern on his non-human face. “Still, it was irresponsible of him to not care for you himself. Also,” Leonard has never seen Goris look this visibly uncomfortable, “why my father?”

“Yeah, good fucking question.” Leonard rolls off the bed and takes the blanket with him, rolled around his body like a cocoon. The pillow gets dragged along too, because he’s not about to wake up with a stiff neck in the morning on top of everything else. Hell, if he can move in the morning, it’ll be a miracle.

Leonard rolls and rolls until he reaches Goris’ nest. It looks much warmer and more comfortable. “I’ll explain later. But for now, sleep.” With that, he puts his head on the pillow and snuggles up to Goris. He keeps his eyes closed to try and ignore this huge act of sentimentality. Oh fuck, he’s probably blushing too. Or not, that’s just residual heat from the shower, definitely.

When was the last time he’d cuddled with someone he’d slept with? Hardly ever. He hasn’t even _slept_ with Goris, yet here he is cozying up anyways. The last person he’d really snuggled up to was Lenny, almost half a year ago now (and once or twice since then), and that was because the ghoul practically demanded it. He’s slept next to Marcus for warmth once, but it was a purely practical, and it wasn’t soft and cuddly like this.

But it’s nice. Goris has finally caught up to what Leonard is doing, and he’s draped one heavy arm over Leonard’s body. It would be uncomfortable if not for the blanket still wrapped around him.

“Good night,” he mutters. He feels like someone just took him out of a spa and put him into a cloudy dragon’s lair, with a wing-less dragon (Goris, he has a vivid imagination) curled around him. Leonard would never admit it, but he likes this. He should do this more often.

There’s a smile in Goris’ voice. “Good night, Leonard.”


	8. Bonus: Gruthar

“You want to what? Breed with me?”

“Yes.” Gruthar looms over Leonard. As soon as he’d shown up to the Vault again, Gruthar had taken him down to one of the empty rooms on the third floor.

Leonard shifts, confused. “Um, you know that I’m not, uh, I can’t get pregnant, right?”

He nods. “Gruthar was thinking pretend.”

“Oh, a fantasy, roleplay. Okay. What would this entail?”

“First, we do as normal.” Gruthar taps Leonard’s ass gently with one claw. “To loosen up mate. Then comes the part that I do not know how to do. Mate must be penetrated deeply and consume.”

“Consume?” Leonard tugs on his lip. “I could suck you off and uh, swallow you down? That might work?”

Gruthar nods. “Okay. Then last, to ensure that everything works as planned, we do again as normal, but you must finish too. Do you agree?”

This sounds like a stupid idea, but also a really fun one. Leonard swallows hard. Oh, what the hell? Why not? “I agree. But if I say stop, you stop, okay?” He quickly straps on a Super Stimpack. The way Gruthar is looking at him right now, he might need it.

“Of course. I will be rough as normal like you asked before.”

With that, apparently all preparations are done, because Gruthar grabs Leonard and, with a few decisive swipes of his claws, tears off his clothing. Leonard is thrown onto a pile of what feels like soft hay, face-down with his ass in the air. Before he can even regain his breath, Gruthar is inside him, pushing in slowly but firmly until he’s buried to the hilt.

It’s almost hard to breathe like this. Leonard arches his back up so he can gasp for breath. Gruthar leans over him, pressing his shoulders down and arching him even impossibly more until every violent thrust feels like it’s splitting him in two.

Painful but also excruciatingly pleasurable. That could be Leonard’s motto. His elbows slide and his shoulders ache and prickle from where Gruthar’s claws have nicked him.

With a roar, Gruthar finishes inside him, a primal snarl that is weakly echoed by Leonard, who whimpers when Gruthar pulls back. Deathclaws have a lot of extra stuff going on down there, and his fragile soft human skin isn’t totally used to it.

They have a minute. Leonard spits out a mouthful of hay and grabs a regular Stimpack from his bag and uses that, then pops some Buffout to ease the ache in his hips. He’s still got two rounds to go, he doesn’t want to use up his Super Stimpack yet if he can help it.

When he turns back, struggling to his knees, Gruthar’s dick looks different than what was just inside him. It might be just his imagination, but it looks a little thicker and much, much longer.

“Do you have two dicks?” He asks, tucking his hair behind one ear. He licks up and down the length and swirls his tongue.

“Yes.” Gruthar stops to grunt as Leonard takes as much of it as he can into his mouth. It’s not a lot, just the head and about an inch past. Even both of his hands at once can’t cover the whole rest of it. “One for warming up and recreational purposes, this one for breeding.”

Whoever said that size doesn’t matter had apparently never had to blow a Deathclaw, because Leonard feels like his jaw is about to crack open, and he doesn’t even have a quarter of this thing in his mouth. It’s scraping the back of his throat and it takes all of his experience and effort to keep breathing through his nose and not choke on it.

The whole not choking thing is not going to last for long, though, because this part is apparently also rough, like everything with Deathclaws. Gruthar puts a scaly hand on the back of his head and thrusts deep. Tears spring to Leonard’s eyes as he gets caught up in the fantasy too. Gruthar is serious about this. Gruthar is hell-bent on making Leonard his mate, on claiming him, on making sure that every drop of his cum gets exactly where it needs to go.

And it does. Leonard swallows him down, and he’s starting to get light-headed from not being able to breathe, because it’s been a solid fifteen seconds. But finally, after a few more spasms, Leonard has a free mouth and can breathe again. He leans forward and coughs, feeling like his poor throat just got blasted by a very spiky hose. Still gasping for air, he fumbles for his water bottle and a Stimpack, falling onto his back after he’s done drinking. He can feel his stomach sloshing around in his body, and he weakly groans.

“I do not wish to break you,” Gruthar says, grabbing Leonard’s thighs and dragging him forward. He carefully wraps his hands around Leonard’s ankles and pulls his legs up and out.

“You’re not gonna, don’t worry,” Leonard slurs, the room floating around him. His dick throbs, hanging upside down against his stomach, and he feels full and warm and totally powerless. “I’m just worried it’s not gonna fit.”

Gruthar puts one entire inch in him and he’s ready to call it quits. How can literally _any more_ fit?

But it does. After getting that first little bit in, Gruthar thrusts in the rest of the way, and Leonard _screams._ It feels like Gruthar has shoved right up into his lungs, pushing against the fucking lake of cum in his stomach.

Gruthar takes his hips back and it comes almost all the way out, then he thrusts forward again, all the way. Then out again, then back in. And again. And again. Slow at first, then faster until he’s built up a punishing rhythm. And Leonard shrieks every time, his abused throat barely able to make any coherent sound except for screaming. But as Gruthar gets faster and faster, his hands firmly spreading Leonard’s legs apart, Leonard finds he can’t even make noise anymore, instead weakly gasping. Tears are streaming down his cheeks and his shoulders are being driven into the floor from each thrust.

Time for that Super Stimpack. It gives him a moment of clear-headedness, enough to remember that Gruthar said that he needed to finish too, which is not going to be a difficult.

“You are such a _fragile_ mate,” Gruthar grunts. “A female of my species could take three such matings a day, but I fear you will be crushed or split apart by me if I tried.”

Leonard, with his hand around himself, whimpers at the thought. Then, as if he couldn’t feel any fuller, Gruthar more or less explodes inside him. With a sickeningly wet sound, Gruthar pulls out.

“I cannot neglect my mate,” he growls, and bends in half. With one good lick of his rough tongue on Leonard’s super-sensitive dick, Leonard wails and finally finishes too, losing himself in the white-hot pleasure.

Leonard’s left gasping on the floor. If he could feel his body right now, he’s sure it would hurt. But it actually feels great, because he’s totally numb. Yeah, very cool, just laying here on this floor – Oh, now Gruthar has scooped him up, and passing out sounds like an excellent idea right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lizards have two sets of genitalia?


End file.
